


blue-sky-blue

by orphan_account



Category: JO1 (Japan Band), Produce 101 (Japan TV)
Genre: Gen, bad, short!!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:27:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24035842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: It's not much of a gift, but Sukai would probably laugh his ass off at a message from Sora readingI can't look up to anything except a ceiling without thinking of youorwhenever I listen to songs about how everything's all under the same sky, I feel like crying, but I don't turn them off.
Relationships: Kinjo Sukai & Nakazato Sora, is it romantic? platonic?, who even knows - Relationship
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	blue-sky-blue

_The stars are brilliant tonight,_ Sora thinks.

Of course they are — the minutes are counting down until Sukai's birthday, and it seems like even the sky up above is celebrating. What's better is that it's finally starting to get warm enough for Sora to go out on his balcony at night without freezing. The camera on his phone can't capture it half as brilliantly as his eyes can, but it'll have to do; if Sukai isn't here to see them for himself, it's the best Sora can do. Maybe they'll make Sukai think of home — and maybe it's a selfish wish, but he hopes that it'll make Sukai think of _him_ , too.

He waits until midnight to send the picture, though he knows that where Sukai is, there's still a day and change to go before his actual birthday comes. It's not much of a gift, but Sukai would probably laugh his ass off at a message from Sora reading _I can't look up to anything except a ceiling without thinking of you_ or _whenever I listen to songs about how everything's all under the same sky, I feel like crying, but I don't turn them off._ So he sends off the picture without a word, and heads back to sleep; Sukai will see it when he wakes up.

Even so, Sora falls asleep with his fingers curled around his phone.

* * *

Things haven't changed _much_ for Sora, in the two years since Produce ended; he's got a shiny high school diploma that he doesn't feel particularly attached to and an apartment to himself, plus a gig dancing at a local studio. People ask him about Produce a _lot_ , and he answers as honestly as he can. When people ask about Sukai, though —

It isn't that he's _not_ jealous of Sukai; on some level, he's jealous of every single one of his fellow contestants, especially the ones who have debuted. But people will ask if Sukai's actually _that_ poker-faced, or what his attitude's like, or god forbid, about _those_ pictures, and something in Sora hardens. It feels a _lot_ like jealousy, he'll admit, but it's not exactly the same.

It's just — these people don't know anything about the actual Sukai, and it kind of makes Sora's lungs burn. They might have _some_ idea of how hardworking he is, but they'll never know what it was like in that practice room in Osaka, going over choreography that Sukai learned with finesse despite being such an amateur; they'll never know how hard he struggled, either, trying to learn the dance to Tsukame.

They'll also never know what it feels like to be wrapped up in his arms, either, though — maybe that makes things fair.

The memory — the _bittersweetness_ of it — makes Sora shiver; there's no denying that the circumstances of that moment crushed every bit of resolve Sora had, but then again, the warmth from Sukai's arms — and his whisper of "I don't want you to leave" — overwhelm anything else.

"I don't want to leave," Sora had allowed himself to say, in response — it was far too late, at that point, to do anything to reverse his elimination. _39th_ — so close to that cutoff, yet so far.

But Sukai had been there, just as sure as the sky above, to squeeze him tightly and tell him that everything would be alright. And it's been a long two years, watching his brother, his _best friend_ chase his dream and become so, _so_ successful, but the feeling hasn't left Sora's heart; it still blooms in his chest whenever he thinks of Sukai or sees his face. It's something that's just _his_ , that nobody else can have.

* * *

_On your birthday, I'll get you the sky, too,_ says Sukai's response.

There's no _thank you for messaging me_ or _it's been a while_ — just a message that makes Sora tear up in his bedroom. He looks at the timestamp — god, Sukai answered it less than an hour after Sora went to sleep. Sora rubs his eyes sleepily; _I'll get you the sky too?_

It's such a Sukai-like response that Sora can't help but smile. And throughout the rest of the day, there's a spring in his step.

* * *

It's a snowy day in January, and Sora comes home to a package. He's not expecting any mail, but the moment he sees who it's from, he grabs it and rushes into his apartment, haphazardly removing his shoes.

His heart's beating so fast, and he can hear it pounding in his ears — what on earth would Sukai send him a package of? There's no return address, either; Sora's hesitant to open it for just a moment, before slowly opening up the package.

It's... a photo album. Specifically, it's a photo album filled with polaroids taken of the sky. His breath catches in his throat.

He turns the pages hesitantly; each picture is marked with a time, and a location — Sukai must've taken these while he was on tour. _I'll give you the sky_ , he'd said — and, yeah, this must be that; Sora doesn't notice the tears welling up behind his eyes until they start rolling down his cheeks.

He does, however, notice when the buzzer to his apartment rings; he breaks out into a wide smile. These photos, he realizes, aren't the only gift he's being given.

**Author's Note:**

> title from buono!'s blue-sky-blue. this sure is a fic huh. happy birthday sky im emo forever
> 
> biggest thanks 2 kukki for reading this through for me!!


End file.
